


Right behind you

by Kath (KathWolfie)



Category: Madtown (Band)
Genre: (Jesus take the wheel), Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4460255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathWolfie/pseuds/Kath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some places in big cities should be visited, some should be avoided. There are also "gray areas" - not bad enough to be feared, but also not good enough to let you escape without being scarred in some way.</p>
<p>Sangbae and Juhyeon live in this kind of a gray area - trying to make their ends meet, living with problems which aren't always their own.</p>
<p>What happens when somebody else's problem catches up with Juhyeon? Sangbae doesn't know, but he's more than willing to share the burden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 01.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [ my AFF account ](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/930437/right-behind-you-angst-hurtcomfort-buffy-madtown-moos-buffymoos-buffyxmoos).

“What the hell is this?! Leave him alone and scram or I’m gonna call the police!”

 

Juhyeon thinks he recognizes the voice coming from behind the back of his attacker, but he really hopes it’s just a figment of his imagination. This isn’t a situation in which he wants to be seen, especially not by _him_.

 

“You guys are so fucked,” the voice says, full of anger and threat, making the guy who hits him finally stop. His friend is still restraining Juhyeon’s arms, though, and it hurts like a bitch to even try to move them.

 

“Da fuck didya just say, midget?! I can kill this runt if I want to and it still won’t be your business or do you want to have your face remodeled, huh?!” The man snarls.

 

Juhyeon is being pushed away, his eyes swollen and unable to see clearly, with blood slowly sipping from the cuts all over his face.

 

“Jun! Call the police! Kang, come here boy!” Juhyeon slowly slides against the gray-colored wall. So it’s really him. He wants to laugh - this must look pathetic, with him all battered up, bleeding onto the dirty pavement behind a convenience store and being saved by the person he used to piss off just for fun. He faintly hears what he concludes is an animal running, then a pair of quick steps, a loud ‘what the fuck’ and a growl so ferocious it stiffens his hurting back in apprehension.

 

“Get them, Kang,” and with this one simple sentence everything morphs into a blurry chaos with a soundtrack from hell. Curses, screams, breaking bones. His consciousness slips away, the sounds of fighting slowly dying out. He doesn’t know how long the fight lasts and to be absolutely honest, he really couldn’t care less right now. Willing his muscles to move, he rests his head on the wall. Someone says his name. The sweaty skin on a palm gently touching his bruising cheek brings him a weird sense of calmness.

 

“Hey Buffy, can you hear me? Buffy!” the urgency in the voice speaking to him, a real concern in every syllable, doesn’t work in a way it should - instead of bringing him to full attention, it only serves to soothe his mind, making it even foggier.

 

He is been cared for, he is wanted. Just how nice is that? Last time he felt that way his mother was still-

 

“Buff- Juhyeon- Juhyeonnie, please, show me that you can hear me?” He really wants to say something, he really does. He wants it to be more than an unintelligible mumble that leaves his mouth. But everything feels swollen and it’s hard to be coherent when you feel like hurling any minute now.

 

“Let’s take him inside,” another familiar voice says over Juhyeon’s head, his face cradled in warm palms. It’s unbelievable how much he wants to just stay like this.

 

“Did you call the police?”

 

“...Sorry, hyung.”

 

“It’s ok. Maybe that’s better- come, help me with him-” there is an ‘omph’ when Juhyeon is being pulled up to his feet. The warmth of the slightly smaller body pressing against him, supporting him, is oddly comforting. The second pair of hands steadies him and after a moment he is being supported by two sets of shoulders, his legs barely moving when he’s being half-dragged into a brightly lit room. They lay him down on a rather cramped couch, but it’s not like he can complain about it, can he?

 

After a moment of a relatively comfortable silence, disturbed only by the sounds of two people moving around the place, probably looking for a first aid kit, Juhyeon hears soft padding of four paws. It stops right beside the couch.

 

Something pushes at his hand, then a tongue darts out to lick his fingers, wet nose pushing them up. Rough hair brush his skin and he forces himself to reciprocate the gesture by scratching the top of the animal’s rather massive head.

 

“Kang, don’t bother him right now-” the creature is stubborn and seemingly concerned. Very gently, it rests its’ heavy head on Juhyeon’s stomach, going against its’ master. Short huff of irritation and the person speaks one more time: “Oh, whatever, you both never listen to me anyway.”

 

Juhyeon can feel someone tall hovering over him, waiting for something.

 

“Should I clean his face?”

 

“It’s ok, I will do it. Can you please call Lee Geon and tell him to come? We might get in trouble- you know- if we were to take him to the hospital- I don’t think I can explain-“

 

“Yeah, I get it. Is it alright to use the phone at the counter? I think one of us needs to-“

 

“Yes, yes, just go, don’t worry.”

 

The shadow looming over his lying form disappears. The door squeak somewhere to his right, then a soft click informs him that he is left with only two companions now. Juhyeon tries to say something, but only a croaked ‘hyung’ makes it through his dry throat. Both of his eyes are swollen, so he doesn’t even try to open them. The couch dips when another person sits down beside him.

 

The hand that sneaks under his head and pulls him up is familiar. The cuts on his lips sting, when cold water from the glass held against them hits the bruised skin. Nevertheless, he drinks it, his own palm coming to rest on top of the hand that is holding the cup. When he’s finished, his head is laid on a makeshift pillow. Calloused fingers brush away the bangs stuck to his face. The wet material of the cloth wiping the sweat and blood just barely grazes the wounds.

 

“To ruin such a handsome face, I don’t know if I should be mad at them or at you,” his caretaker lets out a small chuckle tinged with sadness.

 

“‘m sorry,” Juhyeon whispers.

 

“Wow, the world must be coming to an end... When was the last time you apologized to me? Or anyone else for that matter?”

 

That’s true - Juhyeon doesn’t have a particularly easy-going personality, his apologies were always more action than words. He never liked to be lectured and he still doesn’t like it, so even in his sorry state he rebels. Or at least tries to, given how hard for him is to speak right now.

 

“-not my mom,” he mumbles under his breath but realizes it was a mistake as soon as the cloth touches his split eyebrow without the earlier gentleness.

 

“No, I’m not, but you’re my friend and I love you, and you should know better,” the man beside him says in a quiet tone, full of fondness and worry. Juhyeon wishes there was something else, something hidden in the way the other says ‘I love you’. He hopes, because it’s the only thing he can do.

 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I know it’s not your fault. Take a nap and I will make some calls before Lee Geon comes to scream at us for making a mess, ok? Kang will stay with you - he would probably bite me if I took him away right now,” an awkward laugh fills Juhyeon ears, being the prettiest sound he heard in a while. “You’re in good hands, we will take care of you,” rough fingertips stroke the unmarked skin on his cheek. Feeling important, loved, wanted - is this why this person managed to pull him into his pace? Is this why he can’t stop coming here to observe, to tease, to just be near?

 

The man stands up and leaves, another soft click of the doorknob signaling that Juhyeon can now drift off to sleep, but his own mind seems to be his biggest problem at the moment. He feels both relief and yearning - yet another bloodless war, with his impending defeat waiting for him at the end.

 

A couple of minutes passes in a relative silence, excluding Kang’s soft snoring.

 

The pain is there, Juhyeon’s body half-numb, half-hurting - it won’t fade away just like that, he knows it the best. Before his consciousness leaves him for good, he catches fragments of a phone call that is being made right behind the thin door.

 

 

 _“...-ning, mister Kim. It’s Sangbae spea-...- Juhyeon had a run down with some guys…-at do you mean you don’t- …-I don’t mean to be rude, but you_ _shouldn’t-...-your son! I can’t believe-...- he’s hurting! You can’t just-...-don’t deserve a son as good as him!”_

 

 

The call ends. At least Juhyeon thinks it has ended, because there is a string of curses and the other voice saying in a hushed tone “Hyung, calm down, you will wake him up.”

 

“This is some kind of a sick joke! He deserves- he deserves so much better and yet this old geezer treats him like trash! He might be difficult sometimes, but Buffy is a good kid, I’ve known him since kindergarten! This shouldn’t be happening- shit, I’m so fucking mad…”

 

Ha. Juhyeon’s thoughts, the ones he tries to hide so desperately, the ones that are full of heat, anger, self-loathing and lusting after something he can’t have, definitely don’t make him a ‘good son’ or even a remotely ‘good person’.

 

“It’s just- How come he doesn’t care? Buffy stays with him, helps him and now what? What if we weren’t there to stop those fuckers? Would this old fart even notice that Buffy’s gone?”

 

The silence is stretching and Juhyeon feels the bile rising up in his throat.

 

“I understand, hyung, I really do. But it’s not- we aren’t here to judge anyone, especially not other people’s parents, so please calm down. Kyung Tak-hyung is on his way. I also called Jaeho. He will take your shift and after Buffy’s patched up you guys can go home, ok?”

 

 _Ok_ , Juhyeon thinks, shifting a little and putting his forearm over sweaty, pulsating temple. Sleep never was more appealing.

 

He manages to take a short nap, before Kyung Tak’s steady hands wake him up, wandering over his hurting rib cage, forcing a string of hissed out ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’. It’s weird how silent the other is during the whole ordeal - the guy was always a rather rowdy person and the formal atmosphere doesn’t sit well with his personality. Apparently being a paramedic in training can make you shut up from time to time.

 

Juhyeon tries to sit up, but someone is holding him down and does it without using much strength. Opening eyes is a feat and he’s grateful that the first thing he sees is Sangbae, delicate quirk of other’s lips saying everything about how relieved he must be right now. He looks around for Kang, who probably moved somewhere else to sleep more comfortably. Juhyeon notices napping pitbull only after a couple of seconds - the animal decided to lay down under the couch, only his nose and outstretched paws visible.

 

“Two- no, three fractured ribs,” Kyung Tak gazes at him, frowning at the way Juhyeon twitches when his arm is touched, “-aaand a strained shoulder.”

 

“Morning to you too, hyung,” Juhyeon tries, glad that his mouth doesn’t seem to be as swollen as it was before he went to sleep.

 

“You never learn, do you?” Kyung Tak is aggravated as he rummages through the first aid kit set beside his chair. When he finds what he has been looking for, he sighs with exasperation and pushes three small pills into Juhyeon’s palm.

 

“It’s a miracle that nothing’s broken, especially considering how terrible your face looks-”

 

“I was born that way, you’re just mean,” Juhyeon can see Sangbae’s trying really hard not to laugh out loud, eyes in shape of the crescent moons. ‘Fuck, I’m screwed, that’s just pathetic’ runs through his mind, when he realizes where his thoughts are going. Maybe he should go back to writing?

 

Kyung Tak lets out an indignant sound, pinching the skin on Juhyeon’s arm.

 

“Shut up, brat. Your nose looked like it was broken! Thank God it was only a cut. Really fucking deep cut. Some fancy rings on those pigs, huh? You should be grateful - if not for Sangbae-hyung and Heojun, you would be bleeding all over the trash in that fucking alley.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry,” Juhyeon doesn’t know why he whispers instead of saying it out loud. His head is spinning, dizziness blurring his vision - he really wants to go back to sleep. The pills slip through his fingers. For a second he feels nauseous. Before he can close his eyes, Sangbae’s fingers are on his face again, the older man crouching by his side.

 

“Don’t go to sleep right now, Juhyeonnie, you need to take some painkillers first, ok?”

 

Juhyeon nods weakly while Kyung Tak grumbles something, grabbing the bottle with painkillers from the top of the aid kit. The blond hands the medicine to Sangbae, who puts it in Juhyeon’s mouth, helping him to a glass of water.

 

“I’m taking you home, hm? You can sleep how much you like when we get there. I will just get my things and we’re good to go. Geon, will you give us a lift?”

 

Juhyeon can see more clearly now, noticing the good-natured amusement shining in Kyung Tak’s dark orbs at their hyung’s words. He catches the knowing smile his ‘doctor’ sends him just before answering.

 

“Yeah, no problem. Have I ever denied you something, hyung?”

 

Sangbae grins, stands up and leaves the room with Kyung Tak staring at Juhyeon expectantly.

 

Juhyeon’s friends are aware of his preferences, but there is only one person, who knows about his… feelings and that person happens to be Kyung Tak. The guy is a lot more perceptive than he lets on. For Juhyeon it’s both a blessing and a curse because there was a time when he thought he’s going to implode and Kyung Tak helped him to stay sane by getting his secret out. There was some underage drinking involved, they were in their delinquent phase and the adults around them ignored them as much as they do it now. That’s why Juhyeon can’t help but feel a weird sense of being on his friend’s rather questionable mercy.

 

“What?” Juhyeon finally asks tiredly, observing how the other is close to imploding himself.

 

“He’s, like, ugh- I don’t even know how to describe it-”

 

“The best thing that happened to me?”

 

“That too, but- You know, he’s like- infatuated with you? Has a crush on you? I don’t know, man. Jun said he looked like fury incarnated when he beat those guys up and in the next second he was gentler than a girl fussing over her sick boyfriend,” Kyung Tak’s words are rushed, excitement brimming under the surface, just barely contained.

 

“Please, don’t say anythi--”

 

“You have more chances than you think, don’t fuck it up. Not when he also needs them.”

 

“I’m like a younger brother to him, get your mind out of the gutter,” Juhyeon is shocked at how quickly his throat started to work properly again, even though his voice is hoarse.

 

“There is nothing in this world that will convince me the way he acts towards you or looks at you can be counted as ‘brotherly’. You can fight me on this.”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” this is sort of conceding a defeat and the funny thing is... Juhyeon couldn’t care less. He secretly hopes that Kyung Tak is right this time.

 

“Maybe that’s good they mangled you up. Just try not to masturbate while sniffing his clothes.”

 

“Oh God, just shut the fuck up hyung.”

 

Kyung Tak chuckles, then stands up and helps Juhyeon to do the same. They go back to the car, a used Hyundai Storex parked right at the entrance to the back alley behind the store. Juhyeon takes note of some dark splatters of dried blood - there isn’t lot of it and it’s most probably not only his. He wonders about the guys that attacked him. As if on a cue, Kyung Tak speaks up, his gaze also drawn to the obvious signs of a fight that happened earlier.

 

“Jun told me there were some broken noses and bleeding bites - Kang had a field day with the leg of the guy who hit you, or so I heard. They won’t be coming after you anytime soon.”

 

“It’s not like they were after me,” Juhyeon says quietly. His ribs start to hurt again, plus his legs aren’t exactly in a shape to go on distance longer than three-four steps.

 

“Your dad? What am I asking, of course, it’s your dad. I know it’s not my place, but-”

 

“No, it’s not. Get off my case, hyung,” Juhyeon sounds harsher than he intends. It infuriates him that what the other wanted to say is something he is aware of and even agrees. Choices are tougher to make when they involve your family, no matter how shitty it is.

 

Kyung Tak is a little thrown off of his pace - he whispers an apology and opens the back door to his car. It’s spacious enough for Juhyeon to lay down, so he does just that: snuggles into the seat, minding his arm. Five minutes later Kang joins him on the back, while Sangbae slips into the front seat. They don’t speak on their way to the small apartment, only Kyung Tak’s favorite band playing in the background disturbs the silence.

 

It takes them five minutes to get to Sangbae’s place. Juhyeon is sure he wouldn’t be able to make it on his own, even though the distance is rather short. The building isn’t anything fancy - a four store block of flats, with gray-painted, dirty walls. Sangbae helps Juhyeon out of the car then supports him all the way to the door. Kang comes together with Kyung Tak and their luggage. The apartment is small, somehow messy, with a mountain of clothes on a chair and empty take-out boxes covering the tea table. Surprisingly enough the sofa looks decent, sheets folded neatly on the armrest. Sangbae seats Juhyeon down, smiling sheepishly after noticing his flat is being scrutinized.

 

“Sorry for the mess.”

 

“Nah, it’s ok, don’t worry,” Juhyeon looks up at him, trying to smile back.  

 

“What about Miyoung-noona? When is she coming around?” Kyung Tak asks, flopping onto the floor. Sangbae seems troubled by the question and somehow Juhyeon already knows the answers.

 

“She isn’t coming back, right?”

 

Sangbae lets out a tired sigh.

 

“It just didn’t work out. She probably deserves much better than me.”

 

Juhyeon is really tempted to say something about his hyung’s stupidity, but the words are stuck in his throat at the dejected look marrying Sangbae’s face. Kyung Tak reassuringly pats him on the back.

 

“I’m sure you both deserve better, not only her. Ok, I need to go now, but if you guys need something, just call me. I put two bottles of paracetamol in your backpack, hyung. Buffy has to take two pills three times a day, after every meal. And you too need to eat a proper meal from time to time. I think you lost about two pounds since the last time I saw you,” Kyung Tak reprimands the eldest, then turns to Juhyeon, threatening him with an index finger. “Rest. No excessive exertion, no sudden movement, call Jota and tell him you’re not coming to the workshop. Ask him to give you some paperwork for the time being. Your ribs will need about four, maybe three weeks to fully heal if everything goes as planned. Now be a good boy and go to sleep. Don’t cause Sangbae-hyung any troubles or I will personally skin you alive, understood?”

 

Juhyeon smirks and salutes the other in a mock acknowledgment, immediately regretting his actions as he lets out a hiss of pain at the strain in his shoulder.

 

“See? This is what you get for disrespecting your seniors,” Sangbae flicks his finger against Juhyeon’s forehead, orbs crinkling with mischief.

 

“Totally,” Kyung Tak adds, before stepping through the threshold and closing the door after himself.

 

This time Juhyeon is obedient. His eyes follow Sangbae’s form as he bustles around the flat preparing ramyun, tea, painkillers. He prompts Juhyeon to change into his boxers and a t-shirt, adjusts the pillow, then finally forces him to go to sleep wrapped in two thick blankets.

 

A wild thought about getting used to this awkward coziness runs through Juhyeon’s mind. It’s nice. It’s really, really nice. Breathing becomes easier with each passing second, sounds of ‘home’ lulling him into much-needed sleep.


	2. 02.

Sangbae wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of the tapping water. He sits up, groaning at the pain in his back. Sleeping on a mattress isn’t the best decision he could make, but Juhyeon needs his rest and broken ribs don’t heal well when in contact with hard floor. They are almost healed, at least that’s what Kyungtak said two days ago during the check-up, but Sangbae doesn’t want to take chances, not when it comes to Buffy’s health.

 

_(“This is hilarious - it’s like your roles are reversed. I never expected Moos to take care of you, Mister I-can-manage-myself,” Kyungtak tone is both amused and amazed as he gently pushes his palm over Juhyeon's sides._                                                                                                                                                                             

_“Shut up,” Sangbae and Buffy grumble in unison. The blond laughs, and they also can’t help a slight shift of their lips, stealing not-so-hidden glances at each other.)_

 

The apartment isn’t entirely dark, moonlight seeping through the window-blinds. Ruffled sheets are splayed on the sofa, but Juhyeon is nowhere in sight. Anxiousness slowly starts to raise deep in Sangbae’s chest, forcing him out of his make-shift bed. Ready to check out the bathroom if needed, he glances towards his kitchen, letting out a relieved sigh. Buffy is sprawled over the counter, which divides the room into two. His face is hidden, loose sleeves of his hoodie acting as a cushion. Red light blinks at Sangbae and he lets a small smile surface to his lips.

After the first week of Buffy staying with him, Sangbae notices that the younger started to write again, although he does it only at night. By the end of the second week Sangbae becomes somehow accustomed to Juhyeon's routine, but it still gives him quite a scare everytime he wakes up to an empty sofa. Now, the third week ends and Sangbae is more or less used to Buffy's quirks, finding them weirdly endearing. Juhyeon was always a rather quiet child, doing his own thing in his own way and it did not change even when he reached adulthood. If he wanted to do something, he did it without hesitation. Maybe that is the reason Sangbae is getting more attached by the second. On the other hand, it's not like he didn't have a soft spot for Juhyeon earlier, but the bond they shared as children deteriorated. And now he is here, wanting to re-built something by taking advantage of the fact that Juhyeon needs help. Just how fucked up is that? Sangbae shakes his head in defeat, grabbing at the duvet and moving to place it over Juhyeon's wide shoulders.

He takes a moment to observe the way short fringe sticks to a slightly sweaty forehead, dark wisps of hair curling at Juhyeon’s nape and around his visible ear. Handsome - this is the word that comes to his mind, when he watches the angles of Juhyeon’s face sharpening with each day, the calm settling over features that just yesterday seemed to be puffed out with baby fat.

“You like what you see?” the sleepy, teasing tone brings Sangbae’s consciousness back, as he realizes that he has been caught red-handed, creeping at his sleeping dongsaeng. The heat spreads over his cheeks and for once the darkness is his ally.

“Smart-ass,” he mumbles, gently ruffling the soft hair at the top of Juhyeon’s head, “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m sleeping though.”

“I mean go to sleep like a normal human being,” Sangbae huffs, pulling at the younger’s ear. Juhyeon stands up and obediently goes back to the sofa. But apparently Buffy wouldn’t be himself, if he didn’t tease the shit out of his hyungs and somehow Sangbae more often than not is at the receiving end.

“Where is my goodnight kiss, hyung?”

“You little-” Sangbae hisses out and he’s tempted to do just that to spite and silence the other, but instead he flings the duvet in the general direction of the bed.

Juhyeon chuckles and grabs at the edge of the material that landed near the armrest. He adds another layer to his already impressive bedding and slips under it, with only his head sticking out. Sangbae can’t be mad, even if he wants to - there is just something about the guy that makes it impossible to be angry for too long (although he’s more than sure he’s probably the only person being like that around the brunet).

He makes his way to the mattress, flopping onto it unceremoniously, pulling his favorite blanket over his legs.

“So I guess that’s a ‘no’. Too bad,” Juhyeon’s voice is muffled and the comment isn’t for Sangbae’s ears, but he hears it anyway. Something clutches at his lungs as he turns away, suddenly feeling very tired.

“Don’t say something you don’t mean,” Sangbae mumbles, pushing his face into the pillow, with his back turned. He doesn’t feel the sidelong gaze Juhyeon sends his way slowly travelling down his laying form. Ironically, his thoughts are jumbled enough by the simple vision of them kissing and he’s not aware that the heat rising in his chest might be caused by the steady, hungry eyes locked onto him.

This is ridiculous, Sangbae thinks. What makes Juhyeon different from the rest of the guys who grew up with him? Why aren’t Kyungtak and Jun  making Sangbae all weak and a little squishy inside? Why couldn’t it be someone with a nice personality like Jonghwa or Daewon? Why not fall for Jaeho’s smile instead of this bastard’s smirk? Since when was he gay? The worst thing is that only Juhyeon makes him want to kiss, touch and be touched, offer everything he has and just be near him, social norms be damned.

He wants. He wants so much, so bad that it scares him.

When a sneaky arm encloses around his middle, Sangbae gasps and tries to jerk away. He calms down in the next second, feeling a cheek being pressed against his shoulder blade.

“ ‘s me,” Juhyeon whispers into his t-shirt, arm finally relaxing over Sangbae’s heaving side..

“Why--”

“ ‘You looked like you needed a hug’, “ Buffy echoes words uttered so many years ago, when everything seemed dark, suffocating and it was the only thing Sangbae could do for the other in the wake of a mourning.  It makes them both freeze. The moment one of them (which one? It really doesn’t matter at this point) lets out a breath, the older man’s body becomes pliant in Juhyeon’s hold as he laughs quietly.

“What is that supposed to mean?” There is something bitter at the end of his tongue, but Sangbae doesn’t have any intention of letting it slip right now. Or ever, for that matter.

“Paying my dues to my oldest friend, I guess, “ Juhyeon answers simply, his hold getting a little tighter.

“The last time we slept like this was when… you know,” _your mom died_ , Sangbae briefly wonders, but doesn’t dare to end the sentence.

“Yeah, I know. You were seriously better at this whole consoling thing than most of my shitty family. It’s not like- like I know what bothers you right now, but just lay still and let me, ugh, return the favor?”

“Oh my God, you sound so awkward,” Sangbae chuckles, snuggling deeper into Buffy’s chest, while minding the healing ribs.

The weight on Sangbae’s chest subsides, transforming into an incredible lightness. Even if he can only be with Juhyeon like this, it’s more than enough. He won’t ask for more, he will treasure what’s given to him.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Sangbae wakes up five minutes before his alarm goes off, with Kang’s big head pressed to his stomach, right under the place where Juhyeon’s palms hovers. He wants to stay there, because for some reason his mind whispers to him, that yes, this is his perfect place, his comfort zone. In about an hour Daewon will show up and given the fact that Buffy sleeps on the mattress, Sangbae isn’t going to get off the hook so easily.

He pries the younger man’s hand away, scratches Kang behind the ear to make him move and when finally he frees himself, he considers staying in his cozy prison for another fifteen minutes. Too bad for him, the store won’t manage itself. He already took too many days off last week, with Juhyeon getting a fever and being in need of a constant care. Lee Geon wasn’t going to be a private nurse, especially with his supervisors breathing down his neck after couple of paracetamol bottles mysteriously disappeared from four ambulances. Daewon checked on them in the mornings, right after he came back from the bar, often still wearing his bartender vest. On about three occasions it helped Sangbae to not be late for work. Jota has also been nothing but kind, letting Juhyeon do all the paperwork for the workshop at home. Heojun and H.O were nice enough to change some shifts with Sangbae, but it couldn’t last forever.

He muses about their situation, stopping in his tracks. With eyes glued to the bottom of his empty coffee cup, he realizes the words “ours” and “we” unwittingly became a norm when he refers to himself _and_ Juhyeon. He pinches the bridge of his nose, cursing under his breath. He puts the cup away, turning around to put the dog food out and he notices Kang licking at Buffy’s forehead, visibly trying to wake him up. When Juhyeon finally opens his eyes, he notices Sangbae looking at them and grins mischievously.

“He’s more willing than you.”

Sangbae lets out a strangled noise, his ears going pink at the tips.

“You’re seriously the worst!”

“And you still love me.”

Sangbae wants to answer with something witty, but he can’t force his lungs to work. The knocking  heralds his savior (who’s an hour too early to be here, but Sangbae won’t complain, not in his current predicament), so he automatically moves to open the door. He faces Daewon, tired yet still smiling, and he can’t help but to rest his head over the blond’s shoulder.

For a second Daewon seems to process the information, then zooms in on Juhyeon, who’s now sitting with his legs crossed, petting Kang over his spine.

“You were teasing him. Again. What did Lee Geon told you?”

“You’re early today, hyung. How’s work?”

“See? He’s not even sorry!” Sangbae whines, stepping aside to make way for Daewon.

“It’s because he likes you, right, Buffy?” Daewon concludes, putting a small bag with _mandu_ on the countertop.

“Right,” Juhyeon answers without a hint of hesitation, getting up to his feet and trying to grab at the bag. Sangbae is quicker though, but it doesn’t help him in a long run - the snack still ends up in Juhyeon’s hands, just the same way Sangbae does. He stares at Daewon, who stares right back at him, not knowing what to make of this weird picture. In the next few seconds Juhyeon releases his hold on the shorter male, his whole attention on the kimchi-filled dumplings.

Daewon looks at Sangbae with a mix of pity and sympathy, and the latter hates how transparent his expression must have been. He’s just glad that none of their friends is a judgmental fuck, because everything would be so much harder for him.

Daewon clears his throat and makes his way to the door.

“I finished earlier, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have to get some sleep. Drink some coffee, hyung, it will help, believe me. And Buffy?”

“Yeah?”

“Look after him and take your medicine.”

“Hey, who’s older here?!” Sangbae cries out, looking somehow offended. He can hear the water pouring into the small electric kettle and turns around in time to see Juhyeon pushing the switch on.

“It’s not like it matters anyway,” the brunet says casually, taking out the coffee from the cupboard. “Thanks for stopping by, hyung,” he adds before Daewon closes the door with a light-hearted ‘no problem, see you later’.

The button on the kettle clicks and Sangbae doesn’t even have a time to blink, before Juhyeon pushes the cup with hot, black liquid into his hands.

“No milk, two spoons of sugar, right?”

_He remembers_ , runs through Sangbae’s mind and he can’t help a wide smile spreading on his face.

“Yes, thank you,” he answers, looking more at his coffee than at Buffy. For a brief moment he wishes that they could stick to this routine for a little longer. Juhyeon takes his usual place by the small tea table, papers scattered over its surface.

“Jota is coming today?” Sangbae inquires, sipping on the hot drink, while getting his underwear and clothes into a pile he’s going to take to the bathroom.

“No, I’m going to the garage. I need to stop by my old man’s to get some things.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“Nah, I’ll manage,” right now Juhyeon doesn’t even look at him, immersed in bills and invoices for car repairs. Sangbae shrugs, putting away almost emptied cup. He goes to the bathroom, takes a quick shower and emerges to see that the only difference in scenery is Kang sprawled near Juhyeon’s thigh.

“I swear to God, he likes you more than he likes me,” Sangbae sighs, making his way to the bag with mandu.

“No, he only concluded that I’m the weakest link, since I’m so soft on him.”

“And only for him,” stuffing his mouth with two dumplings, Sangbae mumbles begrudgingly.

Juhyeon doesn’t answer, smirk stretching his lips, and _it shouldn’t be so damn attractive, shit._ Sangbae finishes his breakfast, sparing his phone a glance to check the hour. He lets out a surprised gasp and quickly goes to the rack, grabbing at the jeans jacket and slipping into his shoes.

“Take Kang with you, he could use a long walk. I’ll be home late, so remember to ta-”

“Take my pills and eat the soup, yes, I know. See ya, hyung,” Buffy is visibly amused as he waves him off, putting some documents onto the floor.

Sangbae rolls his eyes, but can’t help feeling that the comfortable routine they have now is something he wants to last.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

It’s noon, the clientele is scarce, Jaeho has another middle-aged lady enchanted by his genuine smile while handing her change and Sangbae doesn’t know why he feels so restless. He stocks the shelf with a couple of soju bottles, eyes tracing the glassy surface in a search for an explanation to his irrational anxiety. The unsettling premonition doesn’t leave him, from time to time squeezing at his guts. Four hours later he’s still not entirely sure if his brain is at work with him or constantly wandering to his flat. It’s like a complete opposite of what he felt when he left the apartment this morning, and something tells him that even though this is different, it’s linked to Juhyeon _(like all the things in his life lately)._

He smiles at the elderly man, who is their store’s regular, as he packs the bags for him. Jaeho is sweeping the floor, humming along to the song playing on the radio, but the ever-present tranquility of their usual work day is lost when the door open to reveal a very distressed Heojun.

“Jaeho, go behind the counter. Hyung, come with me to the back,” his usual cheerfulness is gone, making both of his co-workers immediately follow his command.

The ominous, foreboding feeling fills Sangbae stomach, but he goes after Jun nevertheless.

When they are finally alone in the small back room, where three weeks ago Juhyeon was laying on a shabby couch, his face bleeding profusely, arm dislocated and ribs broken, Sangbae is sure he doesn’t want to hear what Heojun has to say.

“It’s about Buffy, right?” He asks, syllables leaving his mouth somehow strained by the suffocating feeling pushing at his lungs. Heojun nods solemnly, averting his gaze.

“His father’s dead. He… he was the one who found the body. Kyungtak-hyung wants you to go to the hospital. I’ll stay at the store, so don’t worry about work, just go.”

Sangbae feels like vomiting right now.

Why does this all keep happening to Juhyeon?

What did this boy do wrong to deserve all this shit?

“Why didn’t Lee Geon contact me earlier? Why is Juhyeon still at the hospital?” The questions are nothing more than a whisper, and for unknown reasons he feels betrayed, scared, hopeless.

“Because Jaeho wouldn’t manage by himself if you stormed out the second he called,” Heojun is trying to stay calm, collected, someone has to, and Sangbae knows that’s because of both him and Juhyeon. “Kyungtak-hyung didn’t tell me why Buffy stayed there. My motor is parked outside, you can-”

“I’m off,” Sangbae says, walking past the taller man without looking him in the eye. The keys are pushed into his trembling hand, but even if Heojun notices it, he doesn’t try to stop him. He tosses his apron away, wrapping his shoulders in a jeans jacket instead. Going through the back door, Sangbae’s gaze almost immediately lands on the machine parked just right behind the trash cans. He puts on the helmet, which was hanging on the handlebar, and starts the engine.

He doesn’t know how, but he manages to go to the hospital without causing any accidents - his thoughts are jumbled and the dizziness he felt earlier still lingers. The air hits the skin on his knuckles, white from the strength of his grip.

_Calm down_ , he tells himself repeatedly, before his eyes catch the all too familiar color of the hospital walls. He leaves the motor in the parking lot, putting the keys in his pocket, noting how easily they slide through his sweaty fingers.

The hospital is gray, like everything in this neighborhood, with a couple of low, rather wide stairs. Loud barking turns his attention to the alley right behind the building - he notices Kang standing right beside Kyungtak’s leg and he approaches them with his blood thumping in his ears.

“I called Daewon to take Kang. He will be here in a minute,” the blond sounds somehow weird, something tight in his voice making the older man alert.

“Who else did you call before you decided it’s a good idea to contact me?” Sangbae knows he’s bitter, he can see the change in Kyungtak’s face. He regrets his words, but it’s too late now.

“In all honesty, I didn’t think that you coming here is a good idea. But I don’t want him to be alone in this shit. Friends won’t be enough and you’re the closest thing to a family he has right now, so calm the fuck down. This is precisely why I contacted the others - to take care of the things, while you are going to take care of him” it’s harsh, the way Kyungtak utters the sentence and Sangbae feels like crying, because it’s the truth.

“Sorry,” it’s the only thing he manages, “-it’s because I-...”

“I know. Calm down. What did Heojun tell you?”

“Juhyeon found his father’s body. This isn’t all, right? He did something. He hurt himself, am I right?” Sangbae’s voice is quivering, fingers flexing at the hem of his shirt.

“He called for an ambulance. When they came to retrieve the body it turned out that Buffy had had a rage fit, broke some bottles and cut his hands in the process. They had to take him to the hospital to take the remnants of the glass out of the wounds. The police also came. They finished questioning him about twenty minutes ago,” Sangbae knows Kyungtak’s observing him while speaking, gauging his reactions. But he is too tired to care - right now he wants to see Juhyeon and the rest of the world can go fuck itself.

“Can I see him?”

Kyungtak looks at him, something soft lurking his eyes as he pats Sangbae’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you can. Room 207. They should discharge him without much fuss, so take him home.”

Sangbae nods.

He would do that anyway, without anybody telling him what to do.


	3. 03.

Sangbae remembers the day of his own dad’s funeral: he was the one to be casted in a role of the master of ceremonies - the only son that just recently came out of age - while his mother cried into his uncle's shoulder. The ceremony was small, because coming to Seoul from Jeolla was a rather problematic feat for the rest of his family. Yet Sangbae still felt like suffocating, the incense burning a little too intensely, covering his mind with a cloud of dizziness. After two days the whole ordeal had ended, allowing his mother to lock herself in her room, while Sangbae had to go back to work. When he visited her the next day, she announced that she’s going back to Hampyeong. She concluded that Sangbae could support himself just fine with his job at the store. That way Sangbae ended up selling his parent’s apartment and moving to a small flat, taking the pitbull pup his father gave him three months earlier with him. At the beginning it was hard - Sangbae wasn’t used to being alone. But his friends were always there for him, supporting him in any way they could.

The most ironic thing about it was the fact that Buffy, who was only eighteen at the time, turned out to be the most mature of them all, taking the duty of Sangbae’s guardian angel on himself, even though his family situation was far worse. His mother committed suicide  when he was still in middle school _(Sangbae’s heart was breaking when his sixteen years old self held sobbing twelve years old Juhyeon in the quiet darkness of the night, while the people who should care for the boy argued about whose fault was it)_. He didn’t finish high school due to the financial problems caused by his father’s drinking, so he started to work. How he managed to take care of his friend and provide for himself and his good-for-nothing dad was beyond the older boy. He could only admire the strength Juhyeon possessed, the sheer force of determination that kept him going while the rest of the world was against him.

Three days since being discharged from the hospital and Juhyeon is ready to conduct the funeral. He didn’t speak much during the time of preparations, plus he often disappeared, but he prepared everything that was needed without a failure.

Right now Sangbae prays that the calm, seemingly indifferent demeanor Juhyeon displays while performing his duties as the master of ceremonies is rooted in the same strength he had always had, and not in the silent sorrow that tends to win over people’s will during the mourning.

It’s sad how only Juhyeon’s friends are present during his father’s funeral, but that was to be expected: the man cut all the contact with the rest of their family _(“They don’t care either way. It’s one problem less,” Juhyeon once told Sangbae when he asked the younger about his grandparents not visiting them)_ , he didn’t have nothing else than his debts and the only people concerned about him were the collectors. There isn’t anybody beside his own son to mourn his death. It won’t last longer than one day, because Juhyeon needs to take care of each and every loose end the man had left. Sangbae’s mind wanders. How much debt he made? With whom he became acquainted to be able to spiral down so much that his own addiction to alcohol killed him? Are those people aware that he had a son? What is going to happen to Juhyeon if he stays at the run-down apartment? Sangbae is afraid to even think about it, all the while bowing to the photo of a man who ruined his best friend’s life. His gaze wanders to Buffy’s hands, covered in bandages, long fingers putting the offerings in place. Sangbae thinks he sort of understands why Juhyeon reacted the way he did - you don’t choose your family and the death of a parent makes you feel like you’re alone in this world. It really doesn’t matter if you felt like you were alone even when they were alive, Sangbae knows this from his own experience. That’s why he’s here, that’s why he wants to provide as much comfort and support as he can, because Juhyeon deserves that. He deserves having someone who cares.

After the ceremony is finished Sangbae gently grabs Buffy’s wrist. Dark orbs are instantly on him, their usual shine gone, replaced by a somehow empty gaze.

“Let’s go home, ok?”

“No, I’m going back to my place,” Juhyeon’s answer makes all of them freeze, Lee Geon’s incredulous stare and Jonghwa’s shocked expression saying everything the rest of them thinks about the idea. The younger shakes Sangbae’s hand off, backing away from them.

“Why?” It’s Jaeho who asks the question, because Sangbae’s isn’t able to force his lips to work properly right now.

“I don’t need to explain myself,” there is something cold in his voice and it slaps Sangbae in the face, making his fists ball at his sides.

“What the fuck Juhyeon?!” Kyungtak growls, stepping a little closer to the taller man. “We’re here because we care, you dipshit, so the least you could do, is to explain!”

“It’s.Not.Your.Business,” Buffy’s stays haughty, while his words seem to reel the blond even more.

“The hell?! Of course it’s my business! It’s in fact our business, because we all looked after you when you could barely move your fucking ass!”

“Hyung,” Jonghwa’s warning tone doesn’t help. Sangbae can only stand there, while the tension makes the air thick and mouldy.

“I didn’t ask you to do it,” Juhyeon spats.

It’s too much. Kyungtak snaps, but before he can land a hit, he’s stopped by Sangbae, arm stuck in a powerful hold.

“Enough,” he says, shocked by his own calm behavior. “Just go already,” Sangbae’s words are for Juhyeon and the other simply leaves.

_You’re useless,_ a voice in Sangbae’s head hisses mockingly.

_You’re useless, he doesn’t need you,_ it repeats.

Sangbae feels something wet trickling down his cheek and in the next moment he’s taken away from stunned Kyungtak and pulled into Daewon’s gentle embrace.

“He doesn’t mean it, he’s just angry and upset. It will get better, hyung, so don’t cry,” his friend’s voice is soothing, sure of what he’s saying, so he decides to believe him and cry a little more, because being helpless when the person most important to you reaches the breaking point is just too much to handle at the moment. Sangbae doesn’t hear Kyungtak’s exasperated whisper, but if he did it would probably make him feel even more miserable than he already is.

“That bastard should’ve at least talked with Moos… It’s not how you treat the guy you love, for fuck’s sake.”

 

 

***

 

 

Juhyeon’s steps are quick. His mind still works around the way Sangbae looked at him - like he was afraid of something, like he expected something bad to happen.

Maybe that’s right, maybe something bad will happen if Juhyeon stays with them. Maybe he’s the bad luck bringer.

How else explain the fact that his mother killed herself and his father drank himself to death? Why was he the one to find both of them? Was this some kind of a sick joke life decided to play on him for who knows what and whose sins? Was this a message? Is he going to keep finding the dead bodies of the people close to him? Will he make Sangbae kill himself someday?

Maybe it’s all Juhyeon’s fault, maybe he deserved to be beaten up in that alley and then left to rot.

After a half an hour of walking he reaches the hovel which for his parents was both a living space and a nightmare hole, his nose catching the lingering stench of alcohol, cigarettes, death and finality.

The blinds are closed, dirty clothes splayed on the dusty floor. Cigarette butts fill all the ashtrays to the brim, while countless of empty, half-empty and full bottles are stashed on every possible surface.

This should be called dumpster not home.

This should be a graveyard not a place you are supposed to come back to.

He pushes his hands into his hoodie’s pockets, eyes skimming through the dark, sad surroundings. He feels the bottle of painkillers under his fingers, while his gaze lands on the alcohol his father stocked on the windowsill and suddenly everything makes sense.

He fishes the pills out.

There are only six of them.

The bottles standing at the windowsill are full.

There are three of them.

It should be enough.

 

 

***

 

 

When Sangbae calms down, he notices that they are all still loitering near the hospital and the place where funerals are held. Jaeho’s hand traces circles over his back, while Jonghwa lets him use his shoulder for support. Couple of feet away Kyungtak, Daewon and Jun are talking, looking like they are consulting over something. After few moments they come to some sort of an agreement, Sangbae concludes, as they turn around and make their way to the sitting trio. They exchange knowing looks, Kyungtak taking a deep breath before speaking.

“We’re going after him and we’re taking him home, even when we have to use force,” he announces, making Heojun face-palm. Sangbae is a little shocked, plus he feels that they will be intruding, but before he can  voice his thoughts, Daewon puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing at it reassuringly.

“He has to know that he’s not alone and that we’re always having his back.”

“Even when he’s a prick,” Lee Geon mumbles, earning himself a light pinch from Jonghwa.

There is unease lurking in the depth of Sangbae’s stomach, but he nods anyway.

Kyungtak leads them to his car. There is enough place for everyone, but Jonghwa and Jaeho are persistent in staying in Sangbae’s personal space. He’s not sure how he feels about it, but he’s not the one to deny his friends’ good intentions.

The ride to Juhyeon’s apartment takes them approximately ten minutes, but the second Sangbae sets his foot on the pavement, he knows something isn’t right.

He rushes through the shabby staircase, without even noticing that the rest of the guys is right at his heels. He reaches the familiar door, pushing at the doorknob, but to no avail. Jonghwa is beside him, loudly knocking on the wood.

“Buffy, open up, we need to talk!”

Silence.

“Buffy, don’t be stubborn!”

Still no answer.

“Juhyeon, Kyungtak says that if you don’t open right this instant we’re going to take the door by force!”

When Juhyeon doesn’t react, Sangbae feels panic rising in his chest. He pushes at frame, but it isn’t budging. He tries with more force, desperation in his moves alarming the others. Jonghwa joins him and finally the door give away under the pressure.

Sangbae almost topples over himself, but regains his standing in the next moment. He stops in his tracks, taking in what he sees.

Juhyeon lays on the ground, two empty bottles of alcohol standing in a close vicinity, a half-empty one knocked right beside him.

“Fuck,” he hears Kyungtak urgent tone, while he’s pushed aside. The blond kneels beside Juhyeon, grabbing at the familiar bottle of paracetamol.

“Shit, fuck, shit, Jun, get the ambulance! Daewon, make some water with salt and bring it here!” Kyungtak shouts, then turns around to perform a CPR. Heojun reacts quickly, but not as quickly as Sangbae, who is suddenly on his knees, eyes searching Juhyeon’s face.

After the second round of mouth-to-mouth Juhyeon starts to choke and Sangbae feels that he’s crying again.

“Help me with him,” Kyungtak orders and Sangbae listens without any delay. They move him to his side, Sangbae gently holding onto his head. Somebody (Daewon, he was the one to bring the water) pushes the glass into Sangbae’s hand as they force half-conscious Juhyeon to drink the mixture.

“He’s going to vomit, hold his head so he doesn’t swa-” Kyungtak tries to warn them, but Sangbae already knows what he needs to do. With each spasm he feels both relief and despair.

“Why did you do this, why, why, why do you want to leave me so bad, I love you, I fucking love you, you big, fat idiot, don’t leave me, I love you,” Sangbae pours it all out, the words, the tears, the anger and he still holds onto Juhyeon, not minding the smell or his own guts twisting in protest.

Juhyeon stops vomiting, his body still trembling, breath haggard and strained.

“I love you, I love you so much, can you hear me? Please, I’ll take care of you, I promise-” he could swear that Juhyeon tries to say something, but it’s fleeting and gone too earily.

Suddenly there are people around them and Kyungtak pulls on Sangbae’s shoulder to make place for the paramedics.

“He heard you,” Kyungtak says, “he definitely heard you.”

 

 

***

 

 

Juhyeon wakes up to the sickeningly white ceiling and the feeling of something soft brushing against his forearm. He moves his hand, pushing his fingers into the softness.

This is familiar, It’s nice. There is a quiet, pleased sound that forces his head to turn and look at the person sleeping soundly at the edge of his bed.

Sangbae looks different - his cheeks are somehow hollow, dark bags under his eyes indicating that his tired beyond comprehension. He’s also paler than usual, a tinge of pink visible only in his lips. But he’s calm, serene even, unconsciously leaning into the touch he is offered.

Juhyeon remembers. Drowning in a dark pitch of thick, filthy substance, then hearing voices and being brought back to life for a short moment to hear Sangbae cry and beg for him to come back. Because he can’t leave the other alone, because he’s loved.

“What kind of a shitty confession was that, huh?” he chuckles, delicately touching the skin under Sangbae’s eyes.

“What kind of a shitty person tries to kill himself with six paracetamols and three bottles of some weird ass alcohol, huh?” Kyungtak’s voice surprises him enough to stop what he’s doing, but not enough to wake the man sleeping beside him with some sudden movements.

“So you say I should try different approach then, hyung?”

“Don’t ‘hyung’ me, you little fucker. I would fucking skin you alive for trying to pull this shit on us, but Daewon says that might be bad for Moos’ health. Have you seen how much weight he had lost recently? He looks like a ghost. And guess who’s fault is that, hm? I seriously don’t know what he sees in you. Just how blind can lo-”

“Ok, ok, I get it, so stop. How long have I been out?” Juhyeon asks, his hand resuming the caress over Sangbae’s head.

“Two days.”

“How long has he been here?”

“Two days. And he didn’t close his eyes for longer than twenty-four hours. Until I slipped him some pills, that’s why he’s so sound asleep. ”

Juhyeon can’t bring himself to be shocked. His touch becomes gentler, more wary - he doesn’t want to wake the other from the evidently nice dream his having.

“You know, we went after you, because we wanted you to know that we care. You’re not alone in this shit. We will back you up if you need it. We want to help. You’re like a family to all of us. I’m telling you this now, because for a moment there it looked like you’ve forgotten,” Kyungtak sounds tired, hopeful, a little sad. Juhyeon’s throat squeezes.

“And what if I’m the potential danger? What if you guys are going to suffer because you’re too involved?” The question leaves his mouth before he can stop himself. Kyungtak is confused and then something clicks. His eyes soften, as he leans in his chair.

“The worst thing you can do is to cut us off. Cut him off. The closest you brought us to suffering was when you took those pills and drank this shit. You should know the best how it is to lost a family member in a way that makes you question yourself and wonder what you did wrong. I doubt you want this for any of us. Now sit here and repent.”

“For what exactly?

“For forcing me to perform a CPR on you after you drank so much. The stench was awful,” Kyungtak grimaces and stands up to leave.

“Rest, both of you. I’m gonna try to convince them that it wasn’t a suicide attempt - just one stupid fuck not knowing what he is doing,” he waves, closing the door behind himself, leaving Juhyeon alone with his thoughts and soft hair under his fingertips.


	4. 04.

Before Juhyeon can finally go home after being discharged, they need to stop by the nearest police station for a questioning.  Daewon is with them, because since Buffy’s awakening there is some kind of weird tension between him and Sangbae. It makes the older one act awkward and distant, unable to handle Juhyeon on his own. Daewon was kind enough to offer his help, seeing Sangbae so unsettled. The rest of the guys had to take care of all the things that needed to be done in Sangbae’s and Buffy’s absence.  

 

Officer Song, a middle-aged woman with a kind face, who saw each one of them battered or hurt after a fight more than once (adolescence brought Sangbae, Lee Geon and Juhyeon a so-called ‘delinquent phase’, which they outgrew rather quickly, but unfortunately it didn’t mean the past was going to let them go that easily) is visibly relieved when they turn up at the police station. She doesn’t pry, although she probably should, but when it’s Juhyeon’s turn to talk with her it takes an hour before both of them emerge from the small room used for the questioning. With officer Song’s fingers pinching his cheek, Buffy is herded to stand before Sangbae.

 

“Take care of him - I can’t believe that he got me thinking he’s the smart one,” she says to no one in particular, but her gaze wanders to the oldest of the men before her. Sangbae doesn’t know how to answer, because Juhyeon got them all fooled. He just smiles tiredly at the woman, hoping that she won’t dig around more than she already had. To his relief officer Song waves them off and in the next couple of minutes they are on their way to his apartment. Daewon, who was the one making the small talk during the walk, because the other two still acted like awkward teenagers,  doesn’t come inside, stopping at the entrance to the building. His hand squeezes at Moos’ wrist reassuringly before he leaves them to their own devices. They don’t speak, thick silence between them disturbed only by the sound of keys clicking in the door lock. Kang, who for once was left home alone for about three hours,  moves from his place on the couch, looking pleased and happy. He approaches Sangbae first and after being patted on the head he immediately goes to Juhyeon, jumping on him, his front paws pushing at the man’s chest.

 

“Hey boy,” Buffy greets softly, scratching Kang right beside his ears. Sangbae watches the exchange half happy, half jealous, wishing for the other to treat him with the same gentleness he offers Kang. But the invisible wall is there - he doesn’t know which one of them had built it and he doesn’t have the courage to try to look for another method to reach the younger man. He goes to the small kitchenette, putting the kettle on. Opening the cabinet he curses, because the coffee is pushed right to the back of the highest shelf. Before he can move to take the stool, he gets trapped between Juhyeon’s chest and the cupboard, freezing in shock at the close proximity.

 

Five centimetres.

 

It’s not much, but it’s enough for Juhyeon to grab the coffee and put it before Sangbae.

 

The older hears the thundering of Buffy’s heart pressed tightly to his back. He realizes he’s not the only one fearing the wall might have grown too thick.

 

When Juhyeon tries to take a step back, Sangbae turns around.

 

Five centimetres.

 

It’s not much, but it’s enough to force Sangbae to stand on his toes when he kisses away the question written on Juhyeon’s face.

 

Then it all turns into an anxious mess. Careful, feather-like touches of their lips are there to test the waters not to push for what they want. There is restraint, there are questions.

 

_Did I make a mistake?_

_Should I stop?_

_Do I lean in?_

_Is he ok with it?_

_Can I touch him?_

_I want to touch him._

 

Juhyeon’s palms find their way onto Sangbae’s waist, pulling him in. Sangbae’s hands rest just under Juhyeon’s shoulder blades as he tries to melt into the younger. The kiss slowly morphs into something more desperate, more heated, more intense and neither one of them is prepared. They back away, eyes dazed but locked nevertheless, while air comes back to their lungs in big gulps. Then the reality hits Sangbae with full force and he’s scared that he destroyed everything they had.

 

“I-I’m so sorry- I shouldn’t- oh God, you must be disgus-” he stammers, trying to not lose the last ounce of his pride.

 

“I love you,” Juhyeon states, determination in his eyes making Sangbae go quiet.

 

“I love you,” he repeats, this time moving closer into the older man’s personal space, “I love you. I love you. I love you. I lo-” the litany is stopped by Sangbae’s hand over his mouth.

 

“Ok! Ok, I get it!” there is awkwardness mixed with happiness in his voice, scarlet blush spreading from his neck to his cheeks and nose. “I get it, so can you please stop? It’s embarrassing.”

 

“You weren’t so embarrassed when you shouted ‘I love you’ in a room full of other guys,” a hint of teasing tone makes Sangbae look up. He’s met with a smirk, a really charming smirk - he can’t help but stammer something incoherent in response. Somehow it makes Juhyeon’s smirk turn into a warm smile and before he knows it, he’s being held against slightly trembling body, burying his nose in Buffy’s t-shirt, arms sneaking over the other’s waist.   

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

“Doctor Yuu told me to start looking for a new place. He says it will help me get more independent,” Juhyeon says almost casually, while putting the groceries on the counter. For a second Sangbae stops cutting the meat, but resumes his activity without looking at Buffy.

 

Two weeks into Juhyeon’s discharge from the hospital - settling into a comfortable routine that smelled of domesticity was surprisingly easy after both of them finally managed to say what they wanted to say. It’s Sangbae’s turn to make the dinner - they both agreed to make a schedule for cleaning and cooking and split the rent, since Juhyeon was staying together with him for a more or less unspecified period of time. Moos and Lee Geon were strongly opposed to the idea of Buffy staying in his old flat, while Jota suggested selling the place and trying to look for another.

 

“Well, I guess? I mean if you want to? It’s the same thing Jota told you to do, right?” Sangbae tries to sound normal, he really does.

 

He doesn’t want Juhyeon to leave him, not when they finally managed to establish something together. He knows it’s not exactly what Juhyeon wants - Sangbae is still somehow reluctant to take their relationship to the next level - but it’s precious in its own way.

 

Kyungtak used almost all of his resources to not let Buffy be taken to the institution, but the doctor had one condition: Juhyeon had to attend a therapy. To his friends’ surprise he agreed almost instantly.

 

Slowly, things were starting to go back to the way they were. Was Buffy leaving a part of it?

 

“I already found something.”

 

Sangbae’s heart stops, while he tries to play it off as calm as he can.

 

“Wow, that’s- that’s good for you! At least I can tell Lee Geon that you’re listening to your therapist, hm? I hope it’s nice, because I intend to-”

 

“Tell me you don’t want me to go,” Juhyeon’s fingers encircle Sangbae’s wrist - he lets the knife fall to the counter, face turned away.

 

“Is this going to stop you?”

 

“It stopped me when I needed it the most, right?” Juhyeon gently pulls Sangbae’s hand up, kissing the knuckles, waiting for the other to finally look at him.

 

“You’re the worst. Of course, I don’t want you to go. You know this, yet still you- ugh,” Sangbae is aware of how aggravated he sounds, but he can’t bring himself to pretend everything’s alright when it isn’t.  Juhyeon’s arms come to encircle him, soft kisses on his nape calming him down.

 

“I’m sorry. I won’t go,” the younger murmurs against his skin.

 

“I don’t want you to go, but I also don’t- I don’t want to be a burden, Juhyeon,” Sangbae whispers, his body going slack. He finally said it. He finally said the thing he felt ever since he could remember. He waits, because Buffy stopped in his ministrations. His hold on Sangbae becomes stronger. He feels Juhyeon resting his head on top of him, nuzzling his face in Sangbae’s hair.

 

“This sounds like the thing I should be saying, you know. ‘Burden’ is probably the last word I would associate with  you, hyung.”

 

They stay like this for a while, not moving, absorbing the warmth from each other bodies.

 

“Don’t go,” Sangbae says firmly, fingers grasping onto Juhyeon’s forearm.

 

“I won’t. Not without you.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Juhyeon sighs and twirls the older in his arms so that they can be face to face.

 

“I found a place. And I really want you to go with me. Will you think about it?” When Sangbae doesn’t answer, too shocked to react, Buffy adds a soft ‘please?’. He nods and still a little dazed goes back to preparing their dinner.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

“He asked me to move in with him,” Sangbae blurts out one day, when he is sorting through the delivered food together with Jun, while Jaeho takes care of the work behind the counter. Jun stops for a second.

 

“You guys already live together,” the incredulity marring his face leaves Sangbae exasperated.

 

“What I meant is that he wants to move out and he wants me to go with him,” the older explains.

 

“And? What’s the problem?” Jun goes back to sorting, glancing at Sangbae from time to time, clearly waiting for more explanation. Moos is somehow perplexed by the casual tone of his friend. Does he not understand that this is a really big decision? Something that will change their lives?

 

“Hyung, you’re overthinking. I can see cogs turning even from here. Oh God, I can’t believe I’m asking this... Didn’t he tell you that he loves you?”

 

“Mhm,” Sangbae agrees reluctantly, waiting for the thing Jun wants to say next.

 

“You know, from my point of view he is really, and I mean REALLY, serious about you. That’s probably why he agreed to the therapy and that’s why he asked you to move in with him. Plus, you need a fresh start as much as him, so why don’t give it a try?”

 

Sangbae is somehow speechless - Jun had told him everything he already knew somewhere deep down, but when its put into a perspective it takes on new colors. He nods and murmurs a quiet ‘thank you’, going back to what he was doing before.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Sangbae comes home really late. He couldn’t stop thinking about Juhyeon’s proposition and the things Jun said earlier which resulted in some overlooked shelves during stocktaking and lots of overtime.

 

He steps over the threshold, closing the door as quietly as possible. He notices Juhyeon is fast asleep over his laptop, his bangs sticking to his forehead, back rising slowly with each breath. Sangbae shakes his head and like always grabs the nearest blanket to put it over Juhyeon. When he approaches the other he takes a note of the small smile playing over Buffy’s lips. The second the material lands over Juhyeon, Sangbae is being pulled onto his boyfriend’s lap, their noses mere centimetres away.

 

“You aren’t shocked,” Buffy states, eyes searching other’s face.

 

“You’re not a real predator. Now let me go, I need to take a shower, I probably stink like a trashcan.”

 

“Do you need some help?” something darker lurks behind the mischief in Juhyeon’s orbs, something Sangbae knows all too well. There is a moment in which his body grows hotter under the watchful gaze and the anxiety that’s usually there in those moments is gone. He leans in, lips hovering over Juhyeon’s.

 

“Some things I need to handle on my own,” he whispers into the corner of younger man’s mouth, noticing the slight shiver in Juhyeon’s usually calm form.

 

“Give me twenty minutes?” The way Sangbae asks, hopeful and probably a little too transparent with his want, shocks not only Juhyeon - Sangbae doesn’t recognize himself either. He pulls himself away and goes straight to the bathroom. He is more than sure that he needs to make it quick, before all this sudden confidence evaporates.

 

It’s not like he doesn’t know what to do, no. He did his research, he talked with both Daewon and Kyungtak about the possibilities, because he thought he would implode if he kept it inside.

 

So he tries  to psych himself while cleaning and preparing.

 

He wants it as much as he fears it. He pushes his fingers inside himself, remembering all the things about ‘proper preparations’. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a weird feeling that both arouses and scares him a little. He imagines it’s Juhyeon’s who touches him - somehow it makes him feel hotter, more relaxed than he wants to admit.

 

It takes him more than twenty minutes, he’s sure of it, but when he emerges from the bathroom, completely naked and somehow unsure of what he should do next, Juhyeon is there sitting on the sofa, elbows on knees, fingers interlaced under his chin. He’s half-naked, his boxers visibly restricting. When he looks at Sangbae, the older man feels that all the blood in his body retreated to his face.

 

“Wow,” Juhyeon manages, standing up and slowly approaching the other. As if he thinks Sangbae will run away the second he makes some sudden move.

 

But Sangbae isn’t running, nor does he plan on doing so. Instead, he takes one long stride, hands reaching to grab Juhyeon’s face.

 

Their teeth clash at first, then after a few moments they find their pace - it’s clumsy, and gentle and everything Sangbae wants right now. They’re both trembling, none of them sure if it’s excitement or anxiousness talking. Juhyeon’s hands slide down Sangbae’s sides, resting on his hipbones, pulling the other closer.

 

There is a gasp when their lengths touch through the material of Buffy’s briefs. Juhyeon rests his forehead against Sangbae’s, eyes shining with so much love the older thinks he might faint from this overwhelming feeling.

 

“We don’t have any lotion hyung,” Juhyeon whispers, holding Sangbae closer.

 

“We- we can use the oil from the kitchen,” the stammer at the beginning alarms the taller male - he puts Sangbae’s face between his palms, gaze searching and worried.

 

“We don’t need to do this.”

 

“Idiot, Would I suggest oil if I didn’t want to do this?” There is a tint of desperation in Moos’ voice. He prays it will go unnoticed, but too bad for him - Juhyeon is an excellent observer. Buffy’s features set into something dark and promising, some sort of unspecified determination flicking through his eyes.

 

“Lay down hyung. I’ll get the oil.”

 

The words vibrate in Sangbae’s ears, trailing down his back. He does as he is told. For a second he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he settles for going on all fours. When Juhyeon  returns, Sangbae can hear a mumble that sounds suspiciously similar to ‘fuck, hot damn’.

 

“Hyung, why-”

 

“It’s supposed to be easier that way. I mean- ugh-” he doesn’t want to say anymore, he feels like he’s already dying from embarrassment, so he snaps ‘Just get on with it, damnit!’

 

When there is no answer, he turns his head around. Juhyeon’s orbs flick to his face - the hunger in them forces a shiver down his spine. Juhyeon kneels behind him, hands squeezing at his ass. He half-expects and half-fears Juhyeon plunging in, but the other traces his hand down Sangbae’s thigh, gently massaging the skin before speaking in a low whisper.

 

“Put your legs together, hyung.”

 

Sangbae is somehow surprised, but does as he is ordered, waiting for Juhyeon’s next move. Hot, throbbing flesh pushes into the tight space between Sangbae’s thighs, making him yelp in a really unsexy way. He pushes his face into the armrest, desperately trying to not combust. The length rubs against his sack and his own member, the oil getting warmer with every move. Juhyeon gets more forceful, thrusting into the slick space between Sangbae’s legs with such tenaciousness it leaves the older breathless. The strained member pulsates against Sangbae’s skin - there is a second in which he wonders how would it feel inside him. Juhyeon’s fingers choose this moment to prod at his loosened entrance, slinking in and pulling out two digits at time. The pace quickens. It’s too hot, too much, not enough, he wants to burn.

 

Sangbae doesn’t know how long it lasts, but he’s unable to keep his hips in the air - he collapses on the sofa, turning his head so that he won’t have problems breathing. It doesn’t last long: Juhyeon grabs his waist and yanks him up. Sangbae can feel something different pushing into him - he gasps, arching his back, trying to take in what’s being slowly forced in. Shivers run all over his body, Juhyeon’s hands holding him in place.

 

So full.

 

He never felt so full.

 

He gasps and moans and whines and he doesn’t know what’s happening.

 

This is so different, so new, he chokes on his breath. Suddenly Juhyeon is leaning over him, kissing the side of his face, the parts of skin he’s able to reach.

 

“It’s ok hyung, you’re so good, it’s ok. You’re incredible- breath in, breath out, slowly,” Buffy murmurs, coaxing him, caressing him, calming him down, while he's fully sheathed by Sangbae’s quivering inner muscles.

 

And Sangbae listens, he always listens even when he doesn’t know why, because Juhyeon’s heartbeat is wild and he can  feel it with his back pressed tightly against the sweaty chest of his lover.

 

Juhyeon finally moves - Sangbae’s body goes numb as it accommodates more with each deep thrust. At first the stretch is bordering on painful, then it’s just slightly uncomfortable. By the time Juhyeon’s thrusts become erratic, his breathing loud and strained, grunts and moans filling Sangbae’s head, it turns into a simple feeling of being full and wide open. Sangbae doesn’t even notice how the sounds Buffy makes while driving himself deeper influence his own erection, not until Juhyeon’s hand finds its way to his semi-hard manhood.

 

He growls, pushing his hips back to meet Juhyeon’s pace. It’s surreal how good this feels, but then Juhyeon stops, fingernails digging into the flesh on Sangbae’s sides.

 

Sangbae freezes at the feeling of warm liquid coating his insides. His muscles involuntarily clench around the softening length, Juhyeon’s loud moan and his teeth on Sangbae’s shoulder being the only indicators of what is happening to him.

 

When Juhyeon pulls out, Sangbae wills his own body to move aside and make some space for the other, but the grip on his wrist stops him from going to sitting up.

 

“You didn’t get to- to come,” Juhyeon looks flushed, tired and satiated and Sangbae can’t  help with the little squeeze inside his stomach.

 

“It’s ok, I can-” he doesn’t get a chance to say anything more before he’s being pushed back onto the bedding, Juhyeon’s lying between his parted legs. The second their eyes meet he wants to crawl under some blanket - the way Juhyeon looks at him is a second round in itself.

 

Juhyeon parts his legs some more, his head dangerously close to Sangbae’s throbbing manhood and even though the older knows perfectly well what’s going to happen next, nothing was  going to  prepare him for Juhyeon’s mouth enclosing around him, the scorching heat, the wetness, the pressure. Sangbae moans are loud and unrestrained, raw and breathy. Juhyeon’s tongue reaches just the right places in just the right way, leaving Sangbae helpless, with fingers tangled in dark, thick strands. His opening his twitching, aching, stretched and wide open and probably leaking but he can’t care less about his own body betraying him, because it betrays him under Juhyeon’s careful ministrations. He’s feverish, at least that’s how he feels. Juhyeon puts his fingers inside one more time, hooking them and searching around, all the while his mouth renders Sangbae into a needy mess.

 

The fingertip touches something and Sangbae can’t help the cry he is letting out - low, primal, full of pleasure. He throws his head back, hips canting into soft hotness and he comes with Juhyeon’s name on his lips. His shaking, air humid and sticky around them, the scent of sex and release filling his nostrils. It’s warm and perfect and he isn’t sure where he finds the strength to pull Juhyeon up and kiss the living lights out of him, tasting himself on his tongue.

 

He’s so happy it makes his head light. Juhyeon hugs him, peppering his neck and cheek with small kisses, their shared warmth seeping into already heated skin.

 

“We need to buy a proper bed for this new flat, I doubt we have a room for something bigger than this sofa here,” Sangbae says quietly, burying his face in the crook of Juhyeon’s neck.

 

The younger man laughs, holding Sangbae so close that for a moment the latter thinks they might actually become one being.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

“What do you- ugh- keep in there? Bars of met-hh-al?” Sangbae wheezes, after putting a particularly heavy box on the floor in their new living room. Juhyeon takes a break from his fruitless fight with an old, squeaky wardrobe, sparing the box an uninterested glance.

 

“That’s my toolbox, hyung, so yeah, you can say that I keep bars of metal there.”

 

“Why the fuck do you need a toolbox at home? You don’t even have a bike!” the older male flops unceremoniously onto the dusty panels, picking at the package like it was its’ fault that he can’t catch his breath.

 

“A force of a habit, I guess. Besides, I’m planning on working on this old motorcycle that Jonghwa-hyung has at the back. He told me I can have it. And ya know, you shouldn’t be complaining, you too are benefiting from having it here,” Juhyeon says, going back to pushing the big furniture to the corner of the room.

 

“Yeah? How?” Sangbae leans on his arms, his whole posture daring the younger to try and make a witty comment.

 

“You’re working on your biceps and abs. Just the other day you were complaining to Heojun that I became more ripped and it hurts your pride,” Juhyeon smirks, when Sangbae splutters, scrambling to his feet, ears red in absolute embarrassment. Buffy continues, observing the way a slight flush spreads over Sangbae’s shoulders and neck, straight to his cheeks. “The toolbox wants to help you, so you need to help it go where it needs to be. Although I don’t mind - your body is perfectly fine if you ask me. Could be a little looser down there, but it’s not like I’m complaining-”

 

“I’m gonna bite your tongue off the next time I see it!”

 

Juhyeon laughs out loud.

 

“Come and get it,” he provokes, the tip of his tongue barely sticking past his lips. In three big steps Sangbae’s before Juhyeon, his lips pressing into Buffy’s, parting slightly in a pleased sigh. It’s a trap, but Juhyeon pushes his tongue into the inviting mouth nevertheless. Sangbae’s fingers clasp at the front of his tank top, their bodies close, warm and a little too willing, given the fact that there is more unpacking waiting. Juhyeon thinks that his boyfriend forgot about the threat, but right after a soft moan Buffy is bitten.

 

He hisses, palm covering his mouth, while Sangbae snickers devilishly.

 

Someone clears their throat and Sangbae turns his head so fast, that Juhyeon might have got a second-hand whiplash.

 

“A deer caught in the headlight, eh? I never knew your eyes were so big, hyung,” Daewon chirps, putting the bag full of kimbap on the top of the dresser standing in the middle of the living room.

 

Juhyeon puts his arms around Sangbae’s shoulders, noting how warm the older man’s skin is.

 

“You won’t believe how expressive they are when he wants something,” Buffy smiles, amused at how stiff Sangbae’s back becomes after being hit by the hot breath behind him.

 

“I’ll take your word for it. I’m going to just leave it here- Oh, and take your time - looking after Kang isn’t a problem, so you know. But remember to lock the door, we don’t want to traumatize anybody, hm?” Daewon grins, retreating as graciously as always and closing the door without making a sound.

 

“Oh my God, Lee Geon is a bad influe-mpffmpf!-” Sangbae isn’t able to finish the sentence - hand turns his face just enough to plant a kiss. Juhyeon’s revenge robs him of his breath and the will to resist.

 

Well, it’s not like he had much of it when it came to Juhyeon in the first place.


End file.
